


Mornin' Lovin'

by cowboykylux



Series: Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet Series [5]
Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Banter, Come Sharing, Come as Lube, F/M, Intimacy, Married Couple, Masturbation, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Playful Sex, So Married, Songfic, Sweat, Teasing, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28965489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: As much as Flip loves the hard rough dirty sex he has with you, he can't deny that lazy mornings together in bed have to be some of his favorite moments together -- moments like this.
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Series: Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721575
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Mornin' Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the NSFW Alphabet letters I (intimacy) & J (jerking off)   
> Enjoy!

_I want a Sunday kind of love_

_A love to last past Saturday night_

_And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight_

_And I want a Sunday kind of love_

_Oh yea yea…_

Early summer, late morning. Sunlight wafts through the gauzy curtains that flutter from the gentle breeze that comes passing through the open windows. He’s up early, a habit that he can’t ever break, not even on the weekends – especially not then. But that’s alright, he doesn’t mind, not when it gives him a chance to look at you, to be close to you there in the peace of morning.

You’re tucked up on your side, facing him. Eyes fluttering, lips parted as your hair curls around your cheek, Flip debates waking you up. He glances at the clock on the nightstand behind you, and decides just a few minutes more. Just a minute or two more, before he goes missin’ you too much, buggin’ you and waking you up to start your day together.

But you’ve got other plans it would seem, because just as he reaches to card his fingers through your hair gently, you grumble and mumble and stretch, blindly reaching for him, makin’ his heart leap right out of his chest – makin’ his cock twitch. 

“Phil…” You sigh, and the sound of his name slipping out of your mouth never fails to make him sweaty, anxious in the best way.

He shuffles closer to you, watching as your lips spread up into a great big smile, your arms sliding around the warm breadth of his back. You’re slightly sweaty yourself, but that doesn’t mean shit to him, especially when he’s about to make you a whole helluva lot sweatier in just a minute.

“Right here baby.” Flip presses small kisses to the line of you jaw, trailing up and down, settling right at the spot behind your ear that makes you shudder and giggle in the softest sweetest way, that he only gets to hear in times like this when you’re half asleep and silly. “Shh, let me take care of you.”

He likes that, likes being able to say that and deliver on his promises. He wants to make you feel good, he wants to feel good himself, and there ain’t no better person to feel good with, than you.

“Mmm, I dreamt about ya.” You sound entirely too cheeky and teasing for your own good as you twine your fingers through his hair, twisting the locks around and around and around, loving how it’s all soft and silky when it’s not styled and there’s no product in it, and that makes Flip’s pulse beat a little faster.

“You did?” He raises a brow at you, pulling away from your throat to give you a cheeky tease of his own, “Why don’t you tell me about it.”

“Hmm, or I can show you instead.” You open your eyes then, for the first time of the morning, and Flip finds that he’s falling for you all over again, every damn day he falls for you over and over again.

_I want a..a love that's on the square_

_Can't seem to find somebody_

_Someone to care_

_And I'm on a lonely road that leads to no where_

_I need a Sunday kind of love_

_I do my Sunday dreaming, oh yea_

_And all my Sunday scheming_

_Every minute, every hour, every day_

You put just the barest hint of distance between your bodies, just enough so that you can sling your leg lazily over Flip’s hip. He caresses your thigh with one of those big hands of his, gives it a playful little smack, and you’re already biting at your lip, already swallowing hard. Flip’s grinning, he can’t help but grin, he missed you all night in his own lonesome dreams, and now you’re up, and he’s hard, and you’re wet – he can feel how wet you are.

“We were just like this, just you and me, no one else in the world.” You whisper, your hand trailing down down down your body.

Flip watches the movement and echoes it with a hand of his own, his palm smoothing over your stomach, rubbing warm circles into your flesh there as your hip widens and shifts, that leg around his body bending and opening yourself up for your fingers that are being chased by his own.

“What were we doin’?” Flip’s voice is raspy, throat dry. He watches as best as he can, his chin tucked to his chest, eyes trained on the way your hands tease one another, your fingers parting through your folds and the slick sound of your desire breaking the quiet of the room.

“Just lookin’ at each other, touchin’ ourselves.” You grin, your mouth dropping open as you press your fingers through your folds a little more insistently, your tongue teasing right at the edge of your teeth as you ask so sweetly, “Kiss me?”

“Touchin’ huh?” Flip hums into your mouth as his lips slide over yours, tongue teasing yours, eyes shutting just to savor you, as his fingers follow yours down down down, baritone rumbling down into his chest, “Touchin’ how ketsl?”

“Like this…” Your lips pressed against his, you shake your head ever so slightly, and push his hand away, push it onto his own cock, which you can feel prodding against your thigh, hard and throbbing, leaking at the tip from how eager he is.

Flip only huffs out a little impatient laugh, and starts stroking himself off to the rhythm of your fingers rubbing and sliding in and out of your cunt.

Flip doesn’t do too much jerking off – that’s a lie, he jerks off all the fucking time at the station or on stakeouts when there’s nothing else to do but think about you, but he doesn’t do much jerking off when he’s got the benefit of being near you. It’s become a silent agreement; if he’s in the mood you’ll give him a quick handjob, and if you’re in the mood he’ll eat your pussy with no hesitation. If you’re both in the mood and are together, well, you just go at it like rabbits…but this was something different, something slower, more intimate, more sensual.

He knew how to fuck you hard deep rough fast, and that was probably on the agenda for later in the day. But right now, right here in the late buttery golden light of morning, a bit of indulgent intimacy was nothing to shy away from.

He can’t stop lookin’ at you, lookin’ straight into you eyes, and they don’t tear away from yours for one second. It’s like some kind of fucking sex magic, the spell you put him under, even when you’re not even the one touching him. All he wants to do is kiss you, his face shaking ever so slightly from the effort of stroking his cock, his knuckles brushing against your stomach on the upstroke.

Moans fill the air, and you make each other dizzy from the way that you’re breathing panting gasping into one another’s mouths, sucking the breath straight from each other’s lips, heads going foggy and hot from the exhales. He fucks his fist, thinks about how electric that is, how electric you make that feel, just by being close and fucking yourself too, right next to him, looking right at him.

“Flip – Flip fuck I – ” You moan and whimper, your fingers thrusting in and out of your perfect pussy. You’ve got your other hand in the mix now, massaging your clit in a way that’s got your thighs trembling and twitching, your back arching in little pants. Your nipples are peaked and lonely, but you don’t have the hands to touch them and you don’t have the words to ask him to do it for you, so all you can manage is a desperate little cry of pleasure.

He’s drooling all over his pillow, but Sundays are laundry days anyway, so he lets it happen as he groans and moans right back at you. 

“I’m here honeybunny, roll onto your back for me.” He’s too impatient, you tell him that all the time with a laugh and a shake of your head, but this time you don’t argue with him, instead reclaiming your leg and flopping onto your back.

Your body spread out on the mattress, hands busying themselves with your cunt as your chest rises and falls, has to be the best thing that Flip’s ever fucking seen. He straddles your hips and breathes harsh and heavy as he jerks off, fist pumping his cock. The veins are so thick and they press against his skin and bulge out, and you lick your lips, wanting to blow him and feel his pulse under your tongue.

Flip pauses for a minute just to swipe some slick from your pussy and spread it all over his dick, coating it and making the slip and slide easier. That makes you moan, and you kick your legs out a little just from being so pent up and overwhelmed, laughing blissfully. He loves the sound of your laugh, all the time in every situation but especially during sex, there wasn’t a better sound on Earth, Flip was sure.

“I ah—ah Flip, shit you’re _sexy_.” Your laugh melts into another string of moans, your nipples so stiff and practically begging for him to wrap his mouth around them.

“Pot callin’ kettle, ketsl.” He answers the call, leans down and sucks hard on your left nipple and makes you keen, back arching up hard, pressing your chest further against his face.

You moan loudly, sharply, the relief of friction on those sensitive nipples of yours flooding through you. He smirks, happy to know that even when you’re taking care of yourself, you still need him to lend a helping hand.

Flip could suffocate in your tits and die a happy man, Flip thinks as his fist doesn’t slow around his cock one bit, not now, not now that he’s got your tits right there shoved against his cheek, his tongue. One of your sticky slicked hands abandons your pussy to tangle sharply in his hair, and you push him closer closer closer, your breathing coming in faster, your heart beating wildly.

He can feel it under your skin, how close you’re getting, and it only spurs Flip on.

“Bend your legs.” He orders, putting on his detective voice that makes you smack at his shoulder and laugh.

You both knew he isn’t in charge of you, but when you raise a brow at him from your spot on the pillow, and he raises one right back in a playful teasing challenge, you roll your eyes and do as he says, just because what the hell, you’ll feel better for it anyway – and that’s worth him thinking he can get away with being bossy. 

The change in angle of your legs has your hips rising, pressing against him. You moan moan moan, breathy and sweet, sunlight kissing all the spots that Flip can’t reach. He bucks against his fist, has to prop himself up with one flexed bicep that you’re holding onto like an anchor, your free hand leaving his hair to grip and bruise his arm. If there was one thing he was grateful for the Marines for, it was bulking him up enough for you to grab a hold onto any part of him and knowing that he’d be sturdy enough for you to ride out your pleasure against.

“Just you fuckin’ wait until I get you out of this bed and outside, see the sunshine in your hair.” He grunts, his jaw clenching tensing twitching as he gets close, as he feels his stomach flutter and grow hot hot hot, his cock throbbing pulsing, “I’m gonna fuck you right by the pool, you deserve it.”

He loves that, loves you out on the chaise lounge near the pool. When he married you and built you this house, he made sure to include a big backyard with a deep blue pool to plow you by, he made sure of it and he got it and he’s going to take advantage of it all fucking summer. He loves your tits sweat-slicked from the heat of the sun, sweat-slicked just the way they are now as you both get yourselves off to the sound sight smell taste of one another.

“Are you – fuck are you close?” You gasp out, your eyes screwing shut as he watches you try and stave off the inevitable.

It’s endearing, but unnecessary this time. Another one of those habits, another one of those silent rules: you like to come together. Or at least, you like to come together if it isn’t one of those times where Flip’s focused on getting damn near a dozen orgasms out of you in one long long marathon of sex. He kisses you, knowing that even though today isn’t like that, he still wants it, wants to feel you come apart.

“Yeah, yeah, just a little more, don’t wait for me, I want to watch you come on those fingers.” Flip drools into your mouth and moans against your lips, a searing kiss as you let yourself go with this new permission, your whole body shaking, trembling, toes curling and calves tensing as you come and come and come, a steady build up giving off the best reward, your chest heaving, curses dripping from your tongue.

_Oh I'm hoping to discover_

_A certain kind of lover_

_Who will show me the way_

_And my arms need someone_

_Someone to enfold_

_To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold_

_Love for all my life to have and to hold_

_Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love_

_Oh yea yea yea_

You’re jello beneath him, the kind that you make with all the fruit cut up inside it, the wibble-wobble of your legs matching the same jiggle that he loves to slurp up. He wants to slurp you up, and maybe if you’re not too eager to shower and go run the errands he knows you have to run together, maybe maybe maybe you’ll let him.

Face blissed out, Flip chases that, wants that, he wants _you_ he wants --

“I’m gonna come in you, okay?” He asks, desperate.

“Please, yes please Phil, Philly I want it.” Your arms are weak as they loop up around his neck, as you grind your body against his, as you suck on his neck and tease his earlobe with your teeth, making him scramble to corral your legs around his hips.

“Damn -- _goddamn_.” Sinking his cock into you, just for those last few seconds, he thrusts once twice and then he’s curling around your entire body, pleasure blowing through him, electrifying his spine to the point where he can’t even speak, can barely moan, a long loud moan tumbling from deep in his chest.

He thuds his head down on the pillow next to you, collapsing down on top of your body. You’re both so sweaty, he can already feel it starting to stick between your limbs, and you groan playfully from the solid steady weight of his body crushing you into the mattress.

“Some good dream huh?” You’ve got a case of the post-sex giggles somethin’ fuckin’ fierce, and Flip finds that he’s right behind you, his cheeks crinkling up into a smile as he pinches at your side, makes you squirm.

“Which was better?” He bites at your cheek.

“Shut up, as if you even have to ask.” You playfully push your hand into his face, pushing him away just enough to roll over over over, so that now you’re straddling him.

He looks up at you for a moment, and can only shake his head, before mustering up as much strength as he can manage after coming so soon, to surge up and tackle you, making you topple backwards onto the mattress with a loud yelping laugh.

“You’re so – just – the most beautiful – woman – I’ve ever fucking seen.” Smothering you with kisses, Flip frowns at you, pinches at your nose and gives your face a shake.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” You wink, a teasing grin echoing his sentiment from only earlier that morning.

Flip rolls his eyes and pinches at you some more, making you laugh and laugh and laugh, until those laughs melt into soft sighs of adoration, as the wrestling turns more into making out, sloppy and loose and slow and sensual, your eyes shutting together, eyelashes brushing against the tops of your cheeks.

Flip cradles the back of your head in his baseball mitt of a palm, holds you there, holds you against him so he can have his fill of your kisses. You’re so wrapped up in one another, that he doesn’t know how much time could have possibly passed. It might’ve been ten minutes, or a week, he couldn’t have told you. But you take it, take everything that he wants to give you, and you give it back even better.

Every time he tries to pull away, you tug him closer again, until you’re grinning at one another half buried in the crisp white sheets, backlit by the summer sun.

“Spoiled.” Flip eventually mutters without any malice at all.

“Mhm,” You agree, the brat that you are, “But that’s hardly my doing, is it?”

And when Flip can only roll his eyes again and lean back down, indulging you in another kiss or twenty because all he ever wants to do is give you what you ask for, he can’t help but think that no, it’s not your fault at all.

_I don't want a Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday, Friday or Saturday_

_Oh nothing but Sunday oh yea_

_I want a Sunday Sunday_

_I want a Sunday kind of love_

_Oh yea_

_Sunday, Sunday, Sunday kind of love._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always if you'd like, you can find me over on tumblr @babbushka :)


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